Locks of Remembrance
by wanderingghost1257
Summary: He saw him in red, she saw her in purple.


**A/N: Just a little something inspired by a headcanon I saw on Tumblr by unofficialhogwarts.**

 **Dedicated to Ana, my creative consultant, editor, and first person to lay eyes upon this (aside me). Hope you like it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of these wonderful characters, that right goes to the amazing J.K. Rowling. The cover photo belongs to the (equally amazing) Viria13.**

* * *

George took a deep breath, braced himself for what was to come and swung open the door.

"George! What in Merlin's beard happened to your hair?"

George ran his fingers through his bright magenta locks, gazing at his mother who had her arms on her hips, expression murderous, looking as though she would burst into flames and burn his hair off.

Behind her stood Harry, Ron and Ginny. The boys gaped at his hair, looking as though they had seen a troll stomp into their garden and start flinging gnomes. Their gobsmacked expression and his mother's seething fury came as no surprise to him, but his sister puzzled him. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, wand in one hand, the other twitching as though she would punch him, expression blank, but a thousand emotions swirled in her eyes, surprise, anger, disgust, despair and... disappointment.

"I just coloured it, mum. Simple spell I learned from Lee." He focused on his mother, and quickly saw that his (forced) casual response had only catalysed his mother's outburst.

"And what is it that makes you all fancy your hair being an outrageous mess? First Bill, then Charlie, now you! Do you think it's _cool_ or do you all do it to spite me? "

"No, mum I'm not.."

"Or do you just want to stand out from the family, to not be recognised at first glance? Are you ashamed that we are..."

George's eyes widened. "What! No mum. I'm not .."

"Then why?"

At that, he chose not to look at his mother, instead raising his head so that his eyes were fixed upon the ceiling, furiously trying to stop the tears spilling out his eyes, refusing to let his family see the dam he built collapse.

"I keep seeing him in the mirror."

His voice came out as a whisper and silence fell upon them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother's shoulders slump, the anger draining out of her as quickly as it came. She stepped forward, and a sliver of sunlight shining in from a window exposed the pearly tears in her eyes. She wrapped him in an embrace, stroking his back and allowed him to lean on her. At the back of his mind, he realized just how strong she was, to be able to keep standing when he practically leaned his entire weight on her; how broad her shoulders were, solidly supporting the family yet good to cry on -something he hadn't done since he was four and had fallen off his broom when he and Fred were playing their very first game of Quidditch with Charlie and Bill -, how warm her hands were, stroking and patting his back.

For once, he took off the smiling, smirking or otherwise indifferent mask, allowed the dam to break down and the emotions he felt since Fred's death to wash over him, feeling that familiar pang in his chest that he felt waking up every day and seeing the empty bed beside his, and him in his own reflection in the mirror.

After what seemed like centuries, he lifted his head and saw his mother's tender albeit slightly watery smile. She ran her fingers through his messy strands before giving a small sigh.

"You can keep your hair like that if you want, as long as you don't do anything more to it."

George gave a small nod and an equally watery smile, feeling the wave of emotions threatening to once again bring him under, suffocate him, drown him. But he could hold on, at least until he reached his bedroom.

"Could you change the colour?"

Ginny, who had been completely silent since he entered, piped up. She still held a sliver of contempt in her eyes, but had kept her wand and betrayed nothing he saw in her voice. He cocked his head, locked eyes with her, wordlessly urging her to elaborate.

At first she glared at him, but shortly broke their gaze and stared at her trainers. The sound she emitted next was nothing above a quiet whisper, but still blanketed the room in grieving silence.

" It reminds me of Tonks."

* * *

 **By the way, the headcanon was:**

 **Headcanon that after the battle of Hogwarts, George dyes his hair an outrageous colour, and at first Molly is mad, but then she heard George whisper "I kept thinking it was him in the mirror".**


End file.
